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101 Words: Sunday Morning

Waking up horny on Sunday morning.
Stretching out into our bed,
“You’re still here? Thank God,” I said.

A sigh, a groan a sexy poke,
My fingers moving as you woke.

Sunday mornings, they are the best,
Stay in bed - but not to rest,

Exploring you: I’m heading south,
Taking you into my mouth.

A suck, a lick that’s all you need,
My mouth soon filling with your seed.

Another suck, and your cock grew,
A hunger, a desire to mate with you.

Guiding you into my heat,
My hand a sheath around your meat.

Sunday morning, a sexual thirst,
Just so you know, I came first.

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Copyright © Copyright ©2015 Abigail Thornton. All Rights Reserved.

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